


An Accident Waiting to Happen

by starhawk2005



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Het, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-07
Updated: 2012-08-07
Packaged: 2017-11-11 16:27:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/480516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starhawk2005/pseuds/starhawk2005
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John sleeps with the wrong people. Twice. Ooops.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. John/Jo

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Not mine, but me wantey.  
> Author’s Notes: Written for the 15 minute challenge at spn_het_love back in the summer of 2007. I didn’t quite make it – it took me about 18 minutes per ficlet, but I figured I shouldn’t leave the pr0n out, right? Right? Didn’t think so. ;)  
> A word of explanation on why I wrote TWO ficlets…well, when I was trying to figure out what to write, I stumbled across a random comment from my friend vartanluvva, which was as follows: What if John accidentally slept with Jess because she reminded him of Mary, without realizing who she was? So, I started merrily writing away…and realized after finishing the Jo/John that I’d misread the prompt. It was supposed to be JESSICA, not Jo (mild migraines and writing apparently don’t mix, kids – just say NO)…so to rectify that, I tried the Jess/John, too.  
> Hence, two ficlets for the price of one. Enjoy. ;)

He sees her in the Roadhouse bar. Small, pretty, blonde.

And young, oh so young. 

She notices him, too. Gives him a lazy once-over, and then licks her lower lip in a way that makes him instantly hard.

John turns away, though. She’s pretty and she’s blonde and he knows being with her would scratch a bone-deep itch that’s been bothering him for mile upon endless mile of dirt roadway, but she’s too young. _Way_ too young.

She puts a bottle of beer down in front of him, breaking his meager attempts to find something else, some _one_ else, more interesting.

She sits across from him, and he can’t help it when his eyes settle on her cleavage. Her top laces up, but it’s been loosened at the top, and he gets quite an eyeful.

Her eyes are dark and her gaze smoky. He’s not sure why she’s singled him out, out of all the hunters in here. Does she know who he is?

She smiles and leans forward, giving him even more of an eyeful. “I’d ask if you come here often, but…” she pauses.

He smiles despite himself, charmed. Or maybe it’s the fact that most of the blood is already pooling down south of his belt. “A little clichéd?” he comments.

“Something like that.” She’s looking at him intently. Like she wants something. Christ, he’s lying to himself. She knows exactly what she wants, it’s written all over her. And he has to admit, it’s what he wants, too.

He gulps down his beer, trying to break the tension. He’s old enough to be her father, that should make her all kinds of off-limits, right?

She lays slender, callused fingers on his wrist, and it’s like her skin is _burning_ him. But it’s pleasant. This isn’t the fire that burned Mary to cinders against the ceiling. “Listen,” she says, wetting her lips again in that _way_. But then she says nothing at all.

John makes a decision. Fuck it (no pun intended). She’s young, but she’s not _that_ young. Clearly, she wants him. Clearly, he wants her. What’s the harm?

“Is there somewhere around here where we can be more…private?” he asks, low-voiced. He’s never been good at nonverbal come-ons, but he gives her a look up and down, long and leisurely enough that she should get the picture.

She does.

*~*~*

 

They don’t even make it to a room. It winds up happening in the front seat of his truck. Her shirt comes off easily enough, and there’s nothing underneath it but skin begging to be touched, tasted, nibbled.

Nothing underneath her short skirt, either, but a fuzz of short, dark-blond curls and lots of slick folds. She gasps and wriggles when he pushes his fingers inside her and tastes her sweetness. She returns the favour enthusiastically, kneeling on the passenger seat with her head in his lap and her lips wrapped around him in a way that is surprisingly expert. 

She’s burning hot and soaking wet when he finally lines her up and slides inside her. He tangles his fingers in her mane of blonde and can almost believe, for a fraction of a second, that it’s a bedroom in Kansas twenty-two or more years ago, and not the close, hot, sex-scented cab of his truck, in the middle of a grimy parking-lot.

Even those fractions of a second are almost enough to make him think this is worth it.

Until she tumbles off his lap, panting and spent and happy.

“Got a name, soldier?” She quips, eyeing the dog-tags glimmering against his naked chest.

“John,” he grins, “John Winchester. And you are?”

“Jo,” she says, “Jo Harvelle.”

It takes a moment to sink in. And then-

_Harvelle_? 

Oh, shit.


	2. John/Jessica

Sam leaves them, and when John finally gets control of his anger days later, he realizes he can’t let it end this way. He has to protect Sam somehow. John knows what’s on the horizon for Sam, knows the Demon is going to come to claim Sam some day. John won’t let that happen.

He starts staking out Sammy’s Stanford dorm. Not all the time, because there’s still other jobs to be done, and the Demon still out there to hunt down and kill, and in John’s estimation Dean isn’t quite ready yet to tackle the big things solo. But John ‘babysits’ Sammy as much as he can.

John manages to get his hands on a campus security uniform and a forged pass, so he’ll fit into the Stanford surroundings. It works pretty well, especially since the students all around are too busy doing their thing to even notice, for the most part. 

But sometimes John _does_ get noticed. There’s one girl, with blonde hair achingly reminiscent of Mary’s, who walks by John’s truck seemingly every chance she gets, smiling at John in a friendly way. 

John smiles and nods back, and thinks nothing more of it. 

Until one day she strolls right up. “Hi,” she says. “Are you new on campus security? I’ve only seen you around in the last couple months.”

He nods. He doesn’t want to be unfriendly, that might call undo attention to himself, but he doesn’t want to encourage anything, either. It’s a distraction, and he is on a job, after all.

“I’m Jessica,” she says, extending her hand. 

“John,” he says, taking it. 

That’s how it starts.

Soon, she’s visiting him while he’s on his ‘rounds’ fairly regularly, and he’s actually starting to enjoy this. He’s not had this much attention from a woman in a long time. He still does his best to discourage her attentions, saying as little as possible about himself and his past, but this only seems to intrigue her. For his part, he has to admit, he’s flattered, and chatting with her occasionally does ease the tension that comes with these stakeouts.

One week, he needs to do some library research. He has a lead on the Demon, but he needs more background info on the history of the cemetery he thinks is involved – the mythical stairway to Hell, perhaps. After staking out Sam’s room for awhile, he heads off to the library. He finds not only the book he wants, but Jess herself, sitting at a table with a bunch of law tomes stacked around her.

She smiles warmly up at him, the invitation plain in her eyes, and he finds himself halfway into their conversation fumblingly asking her if she’d like to get a beer.

He worries that it’s not _her_ he wants her for. That it’s really for the fact she reminds him so much of Mary. But it’s hard to argue against this, when it’s so tempting to have a little fun. If only for a moment.

They wind up in her dorm room, both buzzed on beer. Her hair gleams bright and gold, even in the darkness, and he keeps his eyes focused on it, even as his hands discover the rest of her, making her twist and moan and shudder in pleasure. 

He licks the salt from her inner thigh, breathes in the perfume of her arousal. Soon she’s clutching at him, digging her nails into his back as he thrusts sharply into her, over and over, but he doesn’t mind that small pain. He lets himself come unglued, allows himself surrender, and it’s so _perfect_. He can almost convince himself that this is harmless, a good idea.

But when he finally untangles himself from her physically – emotionally - he knows this can’t happen again. Too dangerous. To him, to Jessica. Someone’s going to get hurt.

*~*~*

Finally, John decides another month down the road that he’s being ridiculous and he should pay Sam an actual visit. There’s been enough time for both their tempers to cool, he hopes.

Sam’s voice over the phone is guarded, but he agrees to see John. He wants John to meet his girlfriend, and that’s fine by John. Whatever might ease things between them.

When he goes to meet Sam, he greets his son with a small smile and an awkward handshake. Sam steps stiffly back into his dorm, then turns to a figure sitting on the bed.

“Dad, um, I want you to meet someone,” Sam says. “This is my girlfriend, Jessica.”

John looks at her for the first time, and then it registers.

Oh, shit.


End file.
